Periphery
by AA DaSilva
Blurb:
When a young widow falls for a mysteriously familiar stranger, she’s targeted by an agency intent on exploiting the ability gained after her near-death experience. When offered a chance to reconnect with her late husband, things get complicated…and dangerous.
Charlotte barely survived the accident that killed her husband four years ago. Resuscitated a savant, she struggles to find meaning in her survival. When she meets Simon, a mysteriously familiar stranger, they are drawn to each other with undeniable magnetism. But Simon is contracted to a black-ops agency.
With the agency on her heels, and Simon claiming her heart, Charlotte’s past and future collide when she’s offered a chance to reconnect with her late husband.
As secrets are revealed, motives uncovered, and alliances are formed, Charlotte must choose…between the fate of the world and the fate of her heart.
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
“Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” –Albert Einstein
I folded my arms tightly across my chest, my hands clenched into fists. A wave of nausea rolled through me as the car slowed to a stop.
“This conversation is over, Charlotte. I am not having an affair. My father is deploying me to Virginia for a classified mission. It’s my job, my duty.” Jared stared at the intersection, waiting for the light to turn green, his face composed and smooth.
“But why would Kayla say that?” I gritted my teeth.
“Because her husband has affairs when he gets deployed, ever think of that? Takes the heat off him when he makes it sound like we all do it,” Jared retorted.
I chewed on my lip, turning over his response in my head as I stared at the cherry blossoms across the street, buds ready to pop with the impending spring.
“Look at me, Charly,” Jared coaxed.
I loosened my fists and looked over to meet his dark eyes.
He smiled widely, his face so handsome it should be illegal.
“I’m sorry, I know she’s a troublemaker.” I sighed.
Jared was traveling more than ever lately, but such was military life. I was going to have to approach this differently after his deployment.
“It’s only you, doll.” He turned to watch the road as we accelerated.
I kept my gaze on his face, searching for genuineness in his reply.
A piercing screech deafened me, and the hairs along my neck prickled in response to the unexpected sound. There was no time to turn to see where it came from. Noises began to coalesce—the relentless shriek of tires attempting to stop several thousand pounds of unyielding metal, hot rubber dragging across asphalt, exploding glass.
Jared’s body swung uncontrollably away from the source of the impact.
And red, so much red suspended around us just before the darkness swallowed me up completely.
****
“Blood pressure is eighty over sixty and dropping fast!” A man shouted loud enough to be heard over the chaos.
My aching head was stabilized in a collar, but my legs bounced from the hard thump as the gurney was pushed over the threshold and into the trauma bay. I tried to open my eyes, but a rush of warm blood pooled near my eyes, blinding me.
“Oxygen’s dropping, pulse is weak; she’s going into shock!” A voice, this time female, called out between the wailing and buzzing of machines.
Cold scissors slid across my skin and cut through my clothes. Scattered footsteps clamored around the room. There was the crinkle of packages being ripped open, metal trays clanging, the pop of a syringe being uncapped.
“Blood loss estimated to be greater than twenty percent. Page the blood bank and tell them to activate the mass-transfusion protocol, STAT!” The man shouted over the cacophony.
“We’re losing her! Clearing the airway!”
The female’s yelling was followed by more package-tearing, a pinprick into my hand, wheels rolling, curtain grommets sliding on a metal rod with a tinny whoosh.
“We’ve got to get her to the O.R.!”
I was moving, floating almost, and I could tell by the rhythmic pulse of light behind my lids that they were transporting me quickly. Something was over my face pushing air into my lungs without any effort of my own.
And then there was darkness again. The pulsing of lights overhead stopped, and for half a heartbeat, the world fell unnervingly silent. The silence faded as soft music pierced the darkness. The music encircled me like warm sunlight on a summer day.
I opened my eyes and saw a sunny road ahead. I slowed the car and lowered the radio, trying to think about where I was and where I was going. My chrome keychain swung from the ignition and reflected the sunlight across the empty passenger seat, leaving a spectacular pattern of glittering light in its wake. I blinked a few times. Jared was driving just moments ago, wasn’t he?
I was overwhelmed with memories of the accident and trauma bay, while contending with a rush of memories that weren’t mine. A foreign road lined with evergreens, a soldier I had to meet with. A nagging pit formed in my stomach, telling me I had to get to this person I’d never seen before, his face just out of reach of my memory as if formed from a dream. I needed to warn this man. Fast. He was in danger. With laser focus, the memories of the accident began to fade, and I began navigating the road with undue knowledge of how to get to him.
Time was running out.
My thoughts were interrupted by a lightning bolt through my chest—the sensation I was being ripped apart from the inside out. The road ahead became blurry, my vision glitching, as if the world before me threatened to disappear. I squinted my eyes to re-focus, gripping the steering wheel tightly while stomping the gas pedal nearly to the floor. Again, the bolt hit my chest with the strength of a hot iron fist. More beeping, unintelligible voices, shouting. And then, the blackness consumed me again.
I wasn’t going to make it to him in time.
Every part of my body ached. But worse than the aching pain was the intense fire within my mind. I kept my eyes closed to untangle my thoughts before I faced the people in the room. I could tell by the echo around me that I was in the hospital—the rhythmic sound of the cardiac monitors, the hushed voices in the hall.
I could feel the presence of two, maybe three people in the room, quietly shuffling. Pages turning, someone reading, perhaps? Another movement to my right indicated someone was arranging something crinkly. Nervous movements.
Based on the sounds, the people in the hall were about fifteen meters away. My room guests were on my left and my right, and based on the speed of sound—343 meters per second— they were just mere steps away from me. Wait, what was I thinking? What did I know about sound waves and the speed at which they traveled?
And, more importantly, what the hell happened? The accident! Jared was driving, and the impact came on my side of the car. The intersection. But, what about those strange visions in the car? The foreign road, the soldier I had to warn?
And, Jared! Oh, thank God he was okay. I didn’t need reassurance he was fine, I was able to replay the accident in my head clearly. I could look at the acceleration on the speedometer, and judging by the sound, the impact, and the trajectory of Jared’s body, no critical injury would’ve occurred. A head injury, perhaps. He must’ve gotten knocked out by hitting his head on the driver’s-side window, and taken a blow to the chest from the airbag, but…he would survive that.
I needed to open my eyes, talk to the people in the room. But I sifted through equations instead. I could slow the picture in my head of the accident, rotate it and view it from different angles, and determine the impact using estimated figures. Yes, Jared would be fine. Banged up, but alive. And, here I was, intact mentally as well. My body was in pain, specifically the left side of my head that throbbed relentlessly. But it could be worse.
“Charlotte, can you hear me?” Mitch demanded.
Ugh. My father-in-law.
I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly at the unexpected brightness.
My parents jumped from their seats to hurry to my side. Everyone tried speaking at once.
A soft knock, and a man in a white lab coat entered the room.
The drab olive-and-yellow curtains revealed my location. I was in the VA Hospital close to home.
My father squeezed my hand gently.
My mother dabbed at her tears with a wrinkled tissue, and her mascara left black streaks along the lower rim of her eyes.
I tried a half-smile and croaked, “I’m okay.”
“Charlotte—” Mitch cleared his throat and sat in the vinyl chair near my bed.
He was wearing his green service uniform adorned with a plethora of colorful ribbon bars and metals.
The man in the lab coat stepped forward.
Tomas Gustav, M.D., his lab coat embroidery indicated.
“General, I’m going to need a moment with the patient before you proceed,” the doctor interjected.
I inhaled sharply when Mitch, my parents, and the doctor began speaking all at once.
Mitch didn’t appreciate being interrupted. Typical.
My head ached as I recalled the memory of the accident again. Jared’s head shattered the driver’s window, his large brown eyes were wide with shock, and a rivulet of blood streamed down his cheek.
I was startled back to the present when the doctor placed his hand on my wrist.
My visitors exited the room while I was examined.
The doctor performed a neurologic exam and gave me a rundown of the accident—which I didn’t need—and the extent of my injuries—which I did.
Not good, but not bad. Survivable.
The room filled with my guests again. The medications were wearing off, and with that came an increase in pain but also mental sharpness. In fact, my mind felt sharper than it’d ever been. Strange.
Author Bio:
Born and raised in New England, AA DaSilva has a degree in clinical laboratory science and brings her love of science and writing together via science fiction romance. When she’s not working in the lab or writing, AA enjoys spending precious quality time with her husband, two sons, and pup Didi (who looks suspiciously like an Ewok). Her award-winning debut novel, Periphery, is a science fiction love story that explores fate, strength, and the choices that determine our destiny. Book two in AA DaSilva’s Periphery series, titled The Bleed-Through Effect, is forthcoming in 2025 from The Wild Rose Press. For the latest updates on new releases, giveaways, and events, sign up for email updates at aadasilva.com and follow her on socials. AA DaSilva is an active member of the Association of Rhode Island Authors, and a member of the Paranormal Romance Guild.
